


All the Precious Things

by jenni3penny



Category: NCIS, NCIS: New Orleans
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-08 22:29:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18903937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenni3penny/pseuds/jenni3penny
Summary: Really? I just wanted Gibbs, Jack, and Dwayne in the same room and nobody else had written it yet. Just short and fluffy.





	All the Precious Things

**Author's Note:**

> "All the precious things,  
> With their broken parts...
> 
> There're no secrets here,  
> 'cept the ones you tell..."
> 
> Precious Things, Bocephus King

He grunted annoyance at the sound of her phone trilling off again, lifting his head back and up at once. Obviously whoever was calling wasn't giving in. She let off a soft noise of frustration herself, slapped her hand back against the kitchen counter as her shoulders dropped. One high heel stamped impatiently off his floor as she looked up at him, looking lost and lips parted. She was breathing hard, eyes bright Bourbon brown and wild in their glossiness.

Surprisingly, he laughed in response - at the irony, the spectacularly poor timing. And at how pretty she looked while exasperated and flushed with… well, lust, really. Fantastic lust. She was flushed entirely from below her shirt collar and up to her cheeks. But her phone was still insistent, shrill in its interruption.

Jesus, she was beautiful...

He could see the promising spatter of freckles that led to the coveted space between her breasts. He'd just gotten a few buttons of that creamy silken shirt undone, his fingers half as steady as he'd wanted.

She always shoved him a little sideways, a bit slanted. It was one of the things he liked about her… the ability to throw him just off center.

Gibbs gripped the linen of her skirt into his fingers and tugged her in by the hips to keep them close, the other hand catching against her elbow as she lifted her phone.

A brow came up sharply as he caught the Caller ID image that flashed over her smartphone. It was an obviously candid shot, two of his dear friends laughing together from behind what looked like a polished bar. Her laughter in the photo was real, her face riotously pretty with it, hair tied back.

_Huh… Well…_

He had absolutely no idea when she'd been to Nola - but he sure knew Dwayne Cassius Goddamn Pride when he saw him. Even if it was in a crappy cell phone photo.

“Sloane?” he spoke with a purposely slow calculation, even toned and patient. “Quick question?”

The picture blanked off the screen as the ringer cut abruptly. It had to have rolled over to her voicemail and he looked up to watch her answer him.

“Mmm, sure,” she responded, obviously distracted and hazy as she fingered his shirt. Her eyes thinned, cheeks slack as she exhaled slowly to try and right her breathing. She didn't seem to care so much about the phone call, her eyes watching his lips as he half smirked. Even when another ring broke in between them. Dwayne wasn't giving up… which actually had him mildly concerned.

“Why is Pride calling my girl?” he asked, voice low and head tipped. “Huh?”

“ _Your girl_?” She tried to hide her pleasure but her voice had said more than enough. She'd sounded surprised and pleased and shy at once. Her face was still slack with mild surprise but her eyes had gone slightly caramel in color. “Really?”

 _Oh, hell_ … Had he known how happy it was gonna make her he would have said it sooner.

“You gonna get that or am I?”

“I do personally _know_ other men - you realize that, right?” Sloane tossed between them, lips parting and a huff of breath coming off her as he stroked the silk of her shirt against her stomach, lifting his hand up the center of her abdomen. “I've known many men in my lifetime. Not, like, biblically, per se. Point is - ”

He lifted his other hand to try and swipe the phone to answer, “I'm just gonna - ”

“Hello, King,” Jack said brightly after swiping, slapping his hand away and leaning into him instead. She wriggled up closer, hips shimmied into his and a sassy little smirk on her lips as she held the phone to her ear. “To what do I owe this particular pleasure, _Handsome_?”

“I'm standing right here,” Gibbs muttered with feigned annoyance, letting himself leisurely look down her half undone shirt while he tucked her closer. He purposely angled her slightly, letting his erection press into her thigh while his arms curled her up. The small sensual whimper she gave him just barely carried over the sound of her swallowing hard after.

Pride's voice was warmly familiar on the other end of the line even though he couldn't make out the words. Gibbs angled closer and brushed his lips along her opposite cheek, drawing a strangled moan up her throat. “I haven't checked in. I haven't been home.”

He lifted his mouth just in front of her ear, dropping his voice to a shushed whisper, “Speaker.”

“I am _not_ putting him on speaker phone. It's none of your business what he - ” she stopped abruptly and he laughed against the side of her neck, feeling her lift her head to give him more room. He laid a kiss just under her jaw, feeling her swallow again. “No, Dwayne, you're fine. It's Gibbs.”

“Well, that's because he’s had his hands very _very_ full,” she answered, her face full of heat and happy teasing as he jerked his head back. Brown eyes dragged him lower and pulled him in, jerked him under as he tried to glare at her. Jack just lifted one shoulder in supposed innocence, chin turning toward it and her smile widening as she mouthed a ‘What?’.

Gibbs just thinned his eyes and glared harder.

“ _What_?!” she asked him aloud this time, rolling her eyes and shoving him off. Her hand caught against his belt even as she pushed them apart, swinging her around his side and away from his palm as he playfully slapped after her. “Now he's upset with me for implying something _salacious_.”

Her laughter struck brightly throughout his kitchen as she backed toward the living room, her bottom lip bitten under her teeth as she winked and then turned, “Well, _of course_ it was salacious, Dwayne. You know me.”

 

***

 

The scent of almond butter lotion blossomed throughout his bedroom and he breathed it in, enjoyed the way it mingled with the bitterness of the coffee he had in his hand. Gibbs slanted into the doorframe, let his arm press weight against it while he sighed and watched her smooth her hands up and down one bent leg, rubbing the lotion in and blindly murdering the last of his defenses.

 _Jesus_ … It wasn't like he didn't already know he was a leg man but she silently proved the point and gave him a metaphorical gut punch at once. Not to mention the start of a healthy erection - the woman had him pinned.

She was, at once, innocently and criminally gorgeous in his old NIS shirt and little black running shorts. The simple domesticity of the way she was sitting in the middle of his bed and putting lotion on? It had to be intentional. The glasses on, the hair a mess around and in her face? She damn well knew what she did to him and especially with some combination of those factors.

“Didn't let me talk to him?” he phrased it as a question but let just enough accusation into his tone to catch her ear and trip her defenses.

“Hmm?” she hummed up, obviously distracted and trying to focus on him beyond her own thoughts. “Sorry, what?”

Gibbs shrugged, letting more of his weight press the doorframe, “That's one of my oldest friends. You _know_ that.”

She looked chagrined, face showing mild embarrassment before she could entirely school her features. He caught the way she sighed out briefly and scrubbed her palms together before soothing the last lather of lotion up her wrists and forearms. “He'll be here tomorrow.”

“In DC?” he asked quietly, letting his shoulders go forward first as he stepped away from the doorway and nearer the bed. The blank way she was staring at the end of the bed while rubbing at her left wrist had him curiously concerned. It was subtly beautiful but also… strange. “ _Jack_.”

“Yeah. Sorry,” she answered with intentional softness, lifting both her head and her hand. Gibbs nodded as her fingertips tapped at the back of his hand and he let her take the coffee, watched as she palmed it in both hands and leaned back against the headboard.

Jack tried to smile but it was weak, only half strength and partially covered by the way she pressed the cup against her bottom lip as she drew both legs aside for him. He sat into the opened space, stretching his arm across her to put his palm to the mattress. He wasn't surprised when she reached out with one hand and caught her fingers into the fabric of his shirt, but he was utterly charmed by the unspoken need for contact.

Also marginally concerned… “Talk to me.”

“It's one of my old cases, that's all. One of my suspects just showed up dead in Baton Rouge.” Her face panned blank, went slack and pale as she shrugged and took a drink. Gibbs held her eyes, forcing her to match his glance while he waited. There obviously wasn't much more information coming but he waited her out anyhow, kept a half smirk in check while she looked back at him. “You're staring, hon.”

She had to stop using terms of endearment so goddamn casually. It slayed him every time.

“Can't help it,” he shrugged in answer, watched as she set the coffee aside with one hand and pulled at him with the other. Her whole body shifted forward as she tugged him closer, legs drawing up to catch his arm and use it as ballast. Gibbs knew, absolutely _knew_ , what she was about to do.

“Just an old case? That doesn't sound like all of it.” Before she could get any farther in her not-so-subtle assault he reached up, brushing her cheek before carefully pulling her glasses from her face. Her head turned to follow slightly as he put them to the table with the coffee.

If she thought he didn't see an intentional sexual diversion coming at him, especially at close range…? She knew him better than that. Hell, _he_ knew _her_ better than that, too. Which meant it was likely also a search for comfort. Which still tweaked at him and his protective nature, had him going weak in the face of her approach.

“It's not,” she finally admitted against his lips, shifting a hand up under the thin fabric of his shirt. Her palm went flat to his chest and pressed still as she deepened the kiss and leaned into him. He had to purposely slow her insistence, despite the temptation to just pick up where they'd left off earlier.

“Can’t we talk about something else?” she half pouted, dropping her head forward so that she could nudge into his chest playfully. He caught against the back of her head like she obviously wanted and gripped into blonde. It was such a subtly intimate movement - and also a prime way for her to avoid his eyes and seemingly get cute at once.

But he wasn't an idiot and she wasn't often so emotionally transparent. Something had her tossed sideways.

He chuckled appreciatively anyhow, kissed chastely against the top of her head before he squeezed down on her shoulder. “We weren't really talking before, Jack.”

“Good point. Let's get back to that. The not talking part.” Her eyes, when she looked up, were sad and teasing at once. He wasn't sure how that worked, really. How she could show him so much emotion without losing an ounce of the strength that flexed throughout her entire body.

He narrowed his eyes at her, caught the way she bit against her bottom lip in supposed innocence. “You like to talk.”

“Not tonight. Tomorrow, okay? Dwayne can tell you - ”

“I don't wanna hear it from Dwayne,” Gibbs told her sharply, voice quiet but solid. There was no argument on this one, no recourse. If there was a truth to be told it had better come from her and not his old partner. Especially considering the tug at the back of his brain that said Jacqueline Sloane was _exactly_ Dwayne’s type when it came to women.

Smart, trim, sass-mouthed and strong? Not to mention beautiful?

He had no doubt that his old friend would have made a Hail Mary pass at her if he'd been single when they met. And Gibbs had no idea _when_ they had met. After Pride's divorce? Before Rita? That would have been prime timing...

She squinted at him like she knew exactly what he was thinking, too. A small smile started over her lips but then dropped just as quickly as her eyes did.

She shrugged one shoulder at him while avoiding his eyes, fingering his shirt as she exhaled and then spoke. “It was a rough case, all right? And this guy getting dead is… It's a social windfall, Gibbs. The world is a safer, kinder place now. End of story.”

“You're not one to wish somebody dead, Jack.”

“He was unnaturally cruel and arrogant and always...” Her voice had gone harrowed and sullen while she'd trailed off and he watched her study him for a reaction. He didn't offer anything but his open hands as she leaned closer and nodded, giving her balance and leverage as she drew her leg up over him and shifted into his lap. The confidence of her movement was intimate, comfortable, like she'd done it a thousand times before and he wished that she had. He wished they'd had years instead of weeks. Not that there was much good to wishing but, _still_... “I won't mourn that loss, Jethro. I'm not celebrating but I _won't_ pretend to be sad.”

Despite the heat of her bearing down on him, the fullness of having her pressed right into his groin, he forced himself to focus on her face. He still hadn't necessarily gotten an answer from her. Not the answer he was looking for, anyhow. Her diversion tactics were half winning him over and the other half of him had started to remind himself that losing wasn't the worst option in the world either.

Why was he forcing her to face this one? Even he wasn't entirely sure. “Why does this one - ”

“Pride isn't coming to help me, Gibbs,” she interrupted as she slid her fingers up the back of his head, obviously exasperated with his questioning. “He's coming to make sure I have a solid alibi.”

“For last night?” he asked quietly, catching her ribcage in both hands and tucking her in closer to his chest. He grinned and let her start pulling at his shirt, tugging at it. His head went forward, arms lifting as she yanked the fabric up and made an annoyed whimpered sound. “Well, do you?”

“You ass,” she muttered, finally getting the shirt off him and tossing it aside. She shoved at his bare chest in teasing, enjoying the full broad spread of each of his palms as he skidded up the shirt she was wearing. “You'll tell him?”

“I'll tell him exactly what you were doing if you'd like me to, sure. Not how I would usually make my point but - ”

“Gibbs.” She made a pitched sound of annoyance, shoving at his shoulder playfully while he tugged her closer. “Don't you _dare_ hurt his feelings. He's more sensitive than you are.”

“So he _did_ hit on you?” His voice dropped and went thready, the sound of it low from his throat and all about a sudden sort of interrogation. His fingers feathered along her sides before he tugged at the shirt, lifting it without really asking. He got rid of the fabric faster than he had expected. “What else did he do, Jack? You two an item? Past tense?”

“Shut up, Jethro,” she kissed into his lips, drawing him downward as she leaned to the side, a groan coming up his lungs.

The way she moved was the simplest seduction he'd seen in years though, laying back and drawing him down over her at once. She took his hand into hers and kissed him in one recognized motion, stroking her tongue against his.

He finally met her insistence with agreement for two reasons, really… First because she needed the distraction, very obviously needed comforting (and he would always try to comfort her when she needed it, no matter their relationship). Secondly because he damn well didn't want to stop the way she dragged his hand down and trapped it between her thighs.

“Please?” She asked him quietly, jaw lifting into the kiss he offered in answer. Of course. Fucking hell, yes. _Absolutely_. “No more interrogation tonight, all right?”

He wouldn't purposely push her, not after hearing that pleading in her voice, that tired half beg. Gibbs nodded into kissing her again, focusing instead on getting the rest of her undressed. Once she realized that he had given her an evening pass she matched his efforts, the both of them trading laughter and teasing and kisses as clothing hit the floor, or trailed off the side of the bed.

He couldn't say that he loved her, not yet, not aloud, not then. But he truly loved so damn many things about her.

He was hoping that was enough to keep her close until he could open his mouth and _say it._

“Hey,” she lifted his head by his jaw, forcing him to look up from where he had rested his head between her neck and shoulder. “Thank you.”

Thank you for not pushing, she was saying. For not prying. Despite that fact that all he wanted to do was push and pry and push some more. But, hell, she was beautifully appreciative. And he really just wanted a reason to bury himself between her legs and kiss her moaning while she came all over him anyhow.

He shrugged over her and made sure to shift tighter between her legs, watching her eyes slip shut and her lips part slowly as she exhaled. “You'll tell me someday, if y'want.”

Instead of waiting for an answer he dropped his mouth down and found that coveted grouping of freckles right between her breasts. The tip of his tongue started drawing lines between each one.

“Please tell me you're gonna keep heading south.”

He grinned and licked along the inner curve of one breast, his hand already cradling between them to shift her thighs farther apart. He didn't give her any recourse but to move with him and the force in his flexed wrist. “I'll get there when I get there.”

She moaned as he nipped at soft and sensitive skin, his tongue soothing after each little bite on its way to her nipple. “Is this punishment for not telling you about Pride?”

Punishment? Naw. Not at all.

Intentionally delayed gratification due to her being a hostile witness? Highly possible.

“Sweetheart,” he laughed, breath warm against damp and sensitized skin, “we're too old for that sorta thing, aren't we?”

 

****

She huffed an amused noise into his chest as his cell rang, her body cinching tighter to his as the sound turned into a groan. Gibbs tried to move his left hand and felt her catch against it, shaking her head at him. He just chuckled in answer and ducked his head, using a kiss to track her attention up so that he could break free.

Not that she didn't know exactly what he was doing, a sigh coming off her as he broke the kiss and flipped the phone open. “Hey, read me in, brother.”

“Late tomorrow mornin’.” Pride answered, no allowance for a disagreement to follow. “You really messin’ with my Jacqueline?”

“ _Your_ Jacqueline?”

 _His_ Jacqueline?

Jesus, he was too old to get drawn into this sorta young-man's-prowess bullshit but if anyone could stupidly jerk it out of him then it would be Dwayne Pride. He had no doubt about that. Mingle two competitive ‘brothers’ with an attractive woman, add high stress and high tension career tracks, then light the damn fuse. And Pride would enjoy it, too. Just to try and get a rise out of him. Hell, Jack was the same. The both of them took unlimited pleasure in trying to tease the ever-loving shit out of him.

No, he wasn't getting into this. None of them were. They were all too experienced and too goddamn wise for it. “I don't _mess_ with women, Dwayne.”

Well, supposedly they were… some bait was too big to ignore.

“My God, it is true. She still right there with you?” He made an affirmative noise in his throat as he dropped his jaw, noting the way she looked at him with eyes squinted thin. “Don't you break that woman's heart, Gibbs.”

“Her side already, huh? Lotta history there?”

Jack simply grinned after hearing his question, silent as she snugged close again and put her head down onto his shoulder. The smell of her settled him, that shampoo and warm lotion combination, her perfume… Her left hand went spread against his chest and stayed there, her continuing silence the only response she was giving up.

His friend made a huffed laughing sound over the line before sighing, his voice softening, trailing slow. “She saved my life, Gibbs.”

“So have I,” he shot back impishly, his hand lifting to try and tame the riot of her hair as she rubbed her jaw against his chest. She was warm and tucked so closely he couldn't jam a piece of paper between them and that was exactly how he liked it when she was sleepy and naked and feeling effusive. “More than once.”

“But she's a hell of a lot more fun and she makes a mean Mojito. Is it serious?”

He considered the question before answering, really forced himself to consider it. Her upper body shifted unconsciously closer and he squeezed against her, exhaling slowly. “As a heart attack.”

An echoing whistle came over the phone line as a tease, sounding hollow and making him chuckle as her head lifted as well. She'd very obviously still been listening and it was equally obvious by the widened depth of brown eyes that she knew exactly what question he was answering.

“Wish I could see your face right now,” Pride told him and he only half heard it, accepting the kiss she aimed to the corner of his mouth before she buried her face against his neck. “She's a precious thing, Gibbs.”

He knew that pretty well already, there was no need for his friend to tell him. Unnecessary information, really.

She wriggled against him grumpily, huffing hot breath against his throat as she angled her hips up higher against him. One leg went hooked up on him as a barely subtle hint and he laughed, “We're keeping her up, apparently.”

“You two attached at the hip or something?” she muttered, groggy and mildly annoyed sounding. He'd been into half troubles with her enough to know exactly how she sounded when she was starting to lose her cool.

“She gets mean about her sleep, Dwayne.”

“Just checkin’ in,” Pride chuckled in answer. “I was coming up in case she needed a friend when this broke open. Couple other things to attend to while I'm there. Didn't realize. I mean about you two.”

“Haven't publicized it and you and I haven't talked privately in awhile,” Gibbs explained, voice getting incrementally quieter as her cheek went flat on his shoulder. He felt her body go more relaxed against him and he especially enjoyed running his fingertips back and forth on her bare lower back. “Pick you up tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I'll send you the time and tail number. Give Jack a kiss from me.”

He just snorted, “Don't think I will, thanks.”

The phone snapped shut before an answer followed, turning his head into her kiss and catching her closer. She laughed against his lips and that was all he needed to drop the phone and push her over, flatten her back on his mattress and kiss her quiet.

 

***

They were even unspoken brothers in the way they looked at her when they didn't think she was aware of it. It felt the same, that same heat and heavy silence, the same breathlessness. There was a weight to the wanting (and wanton?) way the both of them had watched her at times.

It didn't surprise her, really, their similarities. It did rather sharply draw her attention to the fact that she seemed drawn to a very specific type of man… not that she hadn't known _that_ for decades already. _Thankyouverymuch_.

“I can hear you sigh, Dwayne Pride,” she murmured, still finishing her own case notations. McGee had brought her three personnel files to rifle through and she meant to have them finished before a late lunch.

“Can't help myself.” The way he slung the answer low and slow between them finally lifted her head, had her smiling before her eyes ever made it to his. She found his face so warmly welcoming in its smile, new laugh lines around his eyes, at his mouth. They were handsome additions to an attractive but tired face.

“So you _can_ take the girl off the ocean,” Pride continued, pointing at her as the other hand shunted the door closed behind him. She noted that difference between him and Gibbs right away.

Gibbs was an open book, little to no subterfuge - especially where she was concerned. Well, their first meeting excluded, but that was by particular design. Pride still had a little shadow play in him, though. He still wanted the safety of privacy, the closed doors and hushed mouths. He hated politics and bureaucracies just as much as his friend but had a much harder time stifling it.

“She’ll just find another,” Jack countered as she stood, pressed away from her desk and moved to the right around it. “I'm surprised you made it in here alone.”

“Oh, he wanted to be here. Ellie grabbed him about their case.” His accent swayed her, warmed her through and reminded her of sweet tea, of muggy nights and Dwayne Pride's cooking. “You look... ”

“Significantly older,” she supplied succinctly, curbing the negativity with a self deprecating smirk that had his eyes going brighter.

“ _Gorgeous_ , Jacqueline,” Pride countered quietly, taking her into his chest for a real hug.

She heard him groan into the movement, felt the shift of his hand to the back of her head before it fell anywhere it shouldn't. Jack smiled wider as she answered the embrace with an affectionate squeeze and a laugh as another chaste kiss struck her cheek. God, he was charming. Always had been…

He leaned his head back without making any other movement, holding her close as he squinted and studied her face. “Missed my window, didn't I?”

“I don't know what you could possibly mean.”

He smiled knowingly, jaw going sharply to the side as he huffed through his nose. It was as though it had been exactly the answer he'd been expecting. It was, honestly, the only answer she'd had for him anymore. “That's a ‘yes’ if I ever heard one.”

Jack shoved at his chest lightly, casually breaking them apart and waving toward the couch in her office. “From what I hear there's a lady in your life already anyhow.”

He made a quick ‘pfft’ sound, palm pressed down against his holster as he sat, leaning his body forward and toward her. “Christopher tell you that?”

“Close,” she laughed, settled into the cushions and put her arm up the back of the couch, head in hand as he watched her. “Tammy.”

“Timing’s never been our forte,” he admitted, reaching out to innocently catch her other hand up in his. A heavier breath came off him, broad shoulders lowering, “Speaking of timing…”

“I have a pretty solid alibi, Dwayne.”

Pride just gave her a grin and squeezed her fingers in his, curbing his trademark smile to half wattage. “I've been informed. And in detail.”

“How _much_ detail?”

“ _Enough_ ,” he taunted lightly. “He's impossible, ya know?”

She knew. God, she was well aware of it, had been for quite some time.

She liked that Gibbs could be difficult. That he was a handful sometimes.

He would _have_ to be if he was going to match her, day by day.

Jack simply smiled and exhaled, “I enjoy disproving impossibilities, Dwayne.”

“Explains you and me.”

“There never _was_ a ‘you and me’,” she murmured, the soft rounding of her voice barely carrying any farther than the two of them. He half frowned in answer, turning his glance down over their hands. He purposely shifted both his hands to draw her palm open and stretch her fingers before laying his own left hand on top of hers.

She felt his resignation in the room, a strangely visceral manifestation of it. Hell, there had never really been anything between them but affection, still… they had always played at the Someday/Maybe game. Now she had shut him out of the game, no recourse, no possibility - and with one of his dear friends, too.

“Yeah, but he doesn't know that.” Dwayne recovered his humor even faster than she had expected, his school-boy smile going slanted. It was there, though only at half its usual strength. “Gonna help solve Latham's murder?”

“Justice was served.” She didn't even blink as she held his gaze, didn't flinch. She knew he was waiting to see what her reaction would be… “Murder solved.”

“Jack - ”

“I’m no longer an investigator, King. Resident Senior Agent. I don't answer to you.”

“You never have, sweetheart.” _Sweetheart_ … They both did that. Gentle and unobtrusive terms of endearment, generally when no one else was watching. And especially not anyone who could accuse either of them of a weakness. Most especially not in front of someone who would use her as their weakness. “Gregorio can call if she has questions?”

“Sure.” Her eyes followed him as he stood and she nodded in answer, laughing softly as he tugged her up after him and in front of her desk. “Wanna grab lunch in awhile?”

“Your husband joining us?” He winked so smartly and quickly after saying it that she didn't feel a bit sorry for slapping him flat in the chest.

“ _Really_?” She did it again, this time with a force that shoved him back, laughing his way toward her door. “Go away now.”

 

****

“See, I needed to know. Because you and Latham - ”

“You never did trust that I could stay restrained with him,” Jack muttered, both annoyed and bemused. She put on a lot of play frustration to stir up the pot, to tease between them. Her brightness made him unexpectedly happy lately and he couldn't much explain it.

He watched them both after her interruption, interested to see Pride's reaction while they waited for their food. It was a half smirk and a slowly panned glance his way, a conspiratorial look that Gibbs just replied to with a supposedly helpless shrug and a grin. He got a cuff right in the arm for it too, her hand putting just enough shove into it that he rocked to the side as he chuckled.

Pride stretched back and Gibbs watched his body shift. The other man was putting space between himself and everything else. Them, the table… He purposely distanced himself from their playfulness and it didn't go unnoticed. The way he separated himself? He'd be leaving soon, Gibbs had no doubt.

“Not after you cold-cocked the bastard,” Dwayne said, voice flat toned.

“Pistol-whipped,” she corrected archly, lifting her water glass without looking up to either if them. “At least keep your story straight.”

When she did finally look up at him she gave him a sweet wink, lifting the glass to her lips and taking down a deep drink.

“He ended up unnecessarily unconscious with a field agent standing over him and she ended up with a citation,” Pride explained to him, face lit as he happily recounted the story. He was so pleased with that particular tale, it seemed. So proud of her and it was clearly evident in his voice. “Wanted you to stay then, remember? _Troublemaker_.”

He swallowed the urge to flinch forward or reach toward her, he entirely resisted the urge to move at all. Sure, she _was_ a Troublemaker. She was a little shit sometimes, for sure. But she was _his_. And it was harder than he had expected to curb the urge to publicly issue that claim.

He didn't need to, though. Not for any of the three of them. They were all well aware…

“I had other places to be, Dwayne.” She simply smiled, eyes sparking as the grin went wide. Her fingers caught against Gibbs’ sleeve under the table and tugged at it a couple times before he gave her the open hand she was looking for, his fingers catching hers as she reached for him. “I had to find my way here.”


End file.
